


What’d I Miss Out On?

by ZeroG



Series: Faith's Stories [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Fuckbuddies, Happy Ending, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Burn, Smut, Unrequited Love, roommate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-19 08:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12406350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroG/pseuds/ZeroG
Summary: Shouts that weren’t meant to be shouted. Doors that shouldn’t be slammed. Tears that shouldn’t be shed. All things that could have been prevented if Thomas had just gotten his shit together.Roommate Au, Fuckbuddies Au, Thaurens.(My friend Faith wanted to post this but she doesn’t have an account, so this is for her!)





	1. Before

Shouts that weren’t meant to be shouted. Doors that shouldn’t be slammed. Tears that shouldn’t be shed. All things that could have been prevented if Thomas had just gotten his shit together.

~~

John didn’t like living alone. He liked knowing there was another person in the house. Whether it be a pet or a person or just having music playing to fill the void, he needed someone else there with him, something to interact with, something to laugh with or just something to smile at.

So that’s how John moved in with Thomas in the first place. His best friend’s enemy had been looking for an apartment ever since James had started dating Dolley long-term, and it was Alex who had notified him of the opening for a roommate at Thomas’ rather large house. After a short discussion with the taller, darker man, they agreed on the price just being each other’s company and decided to move in.

John huffed softly as he lugged in the large amount of medical textbooks he owned, Thomas right behind him with a similarly heavy box of clothing. “Laurens, are you sure you need that many textbooks?”  
“Jefferson, are you sure you need a walk in closet just for shoes?”  
“Touché.” Jefferson hummed, jogging up the stairs to John’s new room and dropping the box gently next to the others labeled ‘Clothes’ in scrawled handwriting with a semi-skilled turtle next to it. John let his own box thud to the ground, making Thomas squint.  
“Maybe don’t be so rough next time.”  
“Rough is my middle name, but I’ll put an effort in.”  
“That’s very appreciated.”

There was a brief pause where they just stood awkwardly before Thomas turned away first. “I should leave you to it, then.”  
“Sounds like a plan. Thanks for the room with the bookshelf.”  
“It’s no problem. Let me know if you need something.”  
“Sure.”  
And thus a slight friendship began between them.

~~

Six months passed without too many hitches. In the beginning, it took John maybe a week and a half to actually unpack and set up everything other than his bedspread. His clothes were finally in the closet, his textbooks finally on the bookshelf, and one would be able to say that it was somewhat organized. An easel sat in the corner, hiding a small pile of paintbrushes and paints shouting to be used. The desk was messy- an open textbook sat showing a picture of the human nervous system, a notebook sat on top of that with poorly scribbled notes on it, the place Laurens had fallen asleep the previous night. The complete disarray of the room ticked Thomas off and ground his gears, but he bit his tongue and let his artistic friend do as he wished.

Then John started noticing things around the house. And by things around the house, he meant Thomas.

He was not going to lie and say Thomas wasn’t attractive. He was. The dark skin, the deep brown eyes it was easy to get lost in, the cocky smile and high ego, he definitely looked like a rich person, but he kept himself in check with that snide smile that was always pulling at his lips.

John had noticed his patterns after the work day. He’d burst in in a flurry, mumble a greeting, then lock himself away for at least two or three hours to do some work and, after two weeks of snooping on John’s end, rub one out.

Now, John himself didn’t sit by his door and listen to the guy jack off, that’s disgusting, but he was very intrigued as to why he did this so often and how his hand wasn’t blistered by now.

So, that left him to just investigate and wonder, leading up to the day he’d confront him about this.

~~

“Fuck, Alex..” Was whispered under Thomas’ breath as he squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back into his desk chair, his mind wandering. He hated Alex, he did, and he really just wanted to see him wrecked between his legs. So, since he was in his private office, the common fantasy was just getting ridden by the smirking immigrant. “Fuckin’ bitch..”  
“That’s right Tommy. You wish you had this, yeah?” The Alex in his mind smirked at him as he bounced quick in his lap, skillful and precise, glaring and mocking. Thomas growled under his breath. “Shut up.”  
“This is what you wish you had. You wanna see me ruined.”  
“I do.”  
“You know I’d never let you have control. I’m in charge.”  
“T-That’s a lie.”  
“Maybe you’re right,” Alex bucked his hips as Thomas twisted his wrist quickly, making his breath stutter, “but there’s really no way to find out unless you come after me and take me how you want.”  
“Slut.”  
“You don’t know that.” And then Alex moaned. It was sudden and made Jefferson gasp and stare at the backs of his eyelids harder, watching the rigid form of Alexander move himself faster, call his name, rake his nails down his front until-  
Thomas’ goes curled in his shoes as he finished into the tissue he had already grabbed beforehand. He rode it out as the image of Alexander faded from his mind, and he opened his eyes to his empty office and an empty lap, face burning slightly with scorn. He huffed and caught his breath, cleaning himself up and tossing the now disgusting tissue into the trash bin under his desk before sitting up again. Now was the time for work. Not stupid mind games of what he wished he had. 

Until, of course, there was a knock on the office door a few minutes later. Jefferson wipes his forehead on his sleeve before humming an approval for John to come in, and in he came, sweatpants riding low on his hips and tank top leaving a sliver of stomach in view. “Thomas, bro, we gotta talk.”  
“About?”  
“About how you jack off after work every day. The fuck, man?”

Thomas blinked, then felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment as John crossed his arms. “Okay, look, it helps with stress and I honestly don’t mind stopping, I figured I was being quiet-“  
“Dude.”  
Thomas’ mouth closed as he looked at this sort-of friend that he had, who was now leaning against the doorway. “Bro, listen, I totally get it. It’s chill. And I only just found out maybe two weeks ago, because you, like, groaned or something when I was coming to ask for a hole punch. I just left you alone and got it later.”  
“Oh.”  
“But seriously. It’s chill. And I’m bringing it to your attention and now adding an offer to the table.”  
“Wait, uh, I’m sorry, what?” This has Thomas thrown off guard. He tilted his head in confusion and crossed his hands on his desk as John snorted and stood, walking to just sit in one of the chairs in front of him.

“I’m giving a proposition.”  
“What kind?”  
“The sex kind. I’m very surprised your hand isn’t blistered or your arm isn’t completely ripped.”  
“Lotion works wonders.”  
“No shit. But anyway, the point. The point is, we both get something. You get to de-stress after work and I get laid.”  
Thomas snorted. “And why is that good for you?”  
“I’m taking a medical college course and I’m studying for midterms. I don’t have the time to go and find someone to screw or to screw me. Limited time offer. We become fuckbuddies or we don’t. If not, that’s fine, you ruin your hand and I’ll be just fine repairing it after a blister breaks.” John smiled that smile of his that had caught Thomas’ attention a while ago, and Thomas sat back in his office chair to contemplate for a moment, studying the other’s face.

“Where’s the catch?”  
“There is none, Tommy-boy. Just me, you, and either that office chair, the desk, or your bed. Or none. Take your pick, either is fine.”  
“No strings?”  
“Nope. We’re friends de-stressing. No commitment, no problem.”

Thomas was quiet for a long time, and John was okay with that, looking back at him and studying his face.

“Alright,” John mumbled after ten minutes, “what if I told you I wear panties instead of boxers?”  
This made Thomas’ eyes flicker. John had him.  
“What?”  
“I like how they feel, they’ve always felt better on my hips. I shave my legs too.”  
“C’mere. I’ve made up my mind.”

And thus started the beginning of the end.

~~

Another year passed. Another year and John was constantly ruined, considering Thomas didn’t like to bottom too much.

And John was living.

Thomas was fire and he was water, clashing when their lips were pressed together in a desperate need to feel. To feel and to have and to hold.

In the beginning, John didn’t let himself sleep in Thomas’ bed, claiming it was too intimate of a thing, before two months later Thomas was begging him to stay because John had experimented with straightening his hair and wanted to keep his hand tangled in it, which he did. And then he kept sleeping in there. And he was okay with that too, after a little while.

John got used to the face usually above him. He acquainted himself with the taller male, spreading his legs and biting his lip. He saw it in his eyes that nothing was reciprocated. And originally, that was fine. This was just two friends fucking out their stress.

(“Thomas,” he whispered against his ear as the movie credits rolled, “you wanna go?” His voice was slightly gravelly but still giggly as he nipped the shell of his ear. “I’ll take the drug rug off.”

They’d been smoking for the fifth time that month. Just sitting back and watching some kind of unimportant movie, John in his drug rug that Thomas hated and John loved because it was warm and cozy.

Thomas had had his hand on his inner thigh the whole movie. If John was a girl, his panties would’ve been soaked through ten minutes in. He kept moving his thumb in lazy circles that made him shudder and smile, even swat at his arm. “Stop teasin’ me.”  
“Nope.”

So now John was suggesting. And John wanted him to say yes. Never before had he wanted him to say yes to his own proposition, even though it usually was yes, because when John suggested he stopped being a brat and went compliant. But this time, this time was different.

John knew that was a bad sign. But he was too high to care about it.)

John had seen the warning signs. Visited every one.

(“Let me take you to dinner.” Thomas had blurted one morning over breakfast. John blinked at his cereal before slowly looking up, easily swallowing back his blush like he had been for the previous week. “What?”  
“Let me take you to dinner. Please.”  
“Why? What do you-“  
“We fuck almost every day. Let me thank you.”  
“You can thank me by letting me blow you under the table.”  
“Jacky, I’m being serious.” Thomas tilted his head, using his nickname in that slightly lifted tone that drive him crazy.

John was quiet for some time before nodding. “Sure.”

Thomas had brought him to a semi-expensive place, smiling and talking, catching the bill, putting his hand on his lower back when they walked back to the car.

And Thomas was slow that night. Deliberately slow. And John had hoped that he knew why.)

Their friendship grew. Their bond strengthened. And for the first time since meeting Alexander, John was in love.

~~

Thomas didn’t know what the fuck was happening, but he knew he didn’t like it.

John was always on his mind. That stupid pretty turtle-loving talented medical student, mouth wrapped around his dick or underneath him, or even a few times right over his desk in the same positions that he had pictured Alexander in.

Alexander. He was a different story. John was his best friend. The two were similar, but also drastically different. And Thomas couldn’t figure out what was raging in his head when he got home that night, two years after their agreement.

John was in his normal place on the couch, textbook and notebook in hand, taking notes for wha was probably an upcoming quiz. Thomas made his presence known by dropping his work bag to the floor, and John looked up with those light brown eyes that were so similar to Alex’s-

“Hey daddy.”

And Thomas was gone.

John had never so quickly closed his textbook and sprinted up the stairs with a bite of his lip and a giggle. and Thomas could almost feel himself smile. He loved that stupid smile. And he sure did love the little gasp that came with pushing him against the wall and pushing his leg between his knees. That was gorgeous. And the taste of his mouth, the feel of his lips pressed roughly to his own-

“Alexander.”

And everything went to a standstill. Anything after that point was a blur.

John was quick to yell softly and freeze up as Thomas kept abusing the skin on his neck. “Thomas, get off.” He whispered it first, moving his hands to his chest. Thomas growled softly, and it made him shudder in a way he suddenly hated. “Thomas, stop. Fucking stop!” Thomas merely blinked in confusion and put his hands on his hips. “What’s wrong ba-“  
“Get off me!” He sounded frantic, shoving him away from himself and staring up at Thomas. “D-Did you just call me Alexander?”  
“John, what? No I d-“  
“You called me Alex.”  
“I-It was a mistake, I-“  
“I don’t.. I don’t want to hear it, Thomas.”  
A beat of silence passed between them before John slid out of the room. And Thomas was alone.

~~

John was quiet. He was never good at showing how he felt but dear God the look on his face when Thomas felt it was okay to come back downstairs was heart wrenching. Why was it heart wrenching?

John had a backpack next to him, rummaging through it for a moment, then slipped a beanie onto his head as Thomas sat in the loveseat across from him. There was no sound other than the zipper of John’s bag until Thomas opened his mouth.  
“Jacky-“  
“How long?” John looked up and Thomas was met with a tear filled gaze.  
“What?”  
“How long have you wanted him? For the time we’ve been fucking, how much of that time was spent dreaming of me being Alexander?”  
Thomas was silent. John stared at him blankly for a moment before nodding and turning back to his bag with a forced chuckle. “I thought so.”

Thomas was quiet again as John kept rummaging through his bag. Then he started again. “Can we talk about this-“  
“No. No we can’t.”  
“Can I get a chance to talk, maybe?” His voice was raising as John glared.  
“No, you fucking don’t. You’ve wanted Alexander this whole time, I said I was okay with fucking not with pretending to be my best friend.”  
“You were never pretending to be him!”  
“Then why did you say his name? You wouldn’t have said his name if you weren’t thinking about him!”  
“What’s your problem anyway? Do you like me or something?” There wasn’t enough time to answer. “Okay, yeah, I admit it, the whole fucking time we’ve been screwing I was thinking about Alexander.”  
“And to never stopped to consider how that might be fucking wrong?”  
“No!”  
“What the fuck kind of asshole are you, are you kidding me? Is that why you didn’t stop?”  
“Stop what?”  
Another moment of silence as John stared. “You never listened.”  
“John, stop what?”  
“I told you to stop about three months ago.”

(“Fuck, Fuck Tommy-“ John moaned as Thomas rolled his hips again against his own, tossing his head back into the pillows. “Fuck, just fuck me already!”  
“Alright baby, relax.” Thomas chuckled darkly and took his ankle, setting it on his shoulder with a slight wince from John. “Wait, Tommy hold on a sec- Shiiiiit.” Thomas had already started. “Tommy wait a- mm- second-“)

“You didn’t stop when I said wait. You didn’t stop, it was like I wasn’t loud enough.”  
“John I-“  
“Fucking save it. The image in your head was telling you to go, so you went. Now at least I fucking know why.”  
“You have a right to be upset about that and we can talk about it but John, I like Alexander.”

This was enough to make John freeze as he looked at him. Then John stood.  
“Is that how you really feel?”  
“Yes.” Was mumble after a brief moment of contemplation.  
John let his tears fall as he nodded, and looked away from him to his backpack again, swinging it over his shoulder. “Okay. Ask him out. You have his number and he’s single.”  
“John-“  
“I’m gonna stay by Hercules’ for a few days, until I can actually look at you again-“  
“John! Why won’t you let me fucking apologize to you? Does this really matter? You said no string attached two years ago!”  
“You never thought about how easy it is to fucking fall in love with you!”

The two were silent as John shoulders shook. He was crying as Thomas stared at his back for a moment before John was twisting the door open and stepping out, not looking back.  
“Screw you, Thomas.”  
And then the door was slammed. And John was gone.


	2. After

Thomas’ house was rather empty for quite some time after that.

The house itself looked the same as it did any other day, except it lacked a loving soul that it once housed and now was only home to the ghost that became Thomas Jefferson. The man looked upset almost always. Upset, lost, confused. He went quiet.

It only took two days for Alexander to come into his office, face red with complete rage, and shout at him for being such a complete and utter douchebag and dick to his best friend, and ultimately break his heart. Thomas had sat through the smaller man’s rant calmly and with a trembling lower lip, because at that point he knew he was right. But he took note of how Alex never mentioned that Thomas was in love with him. In fact, it was like he didn’t even know.

“Since you’re so fucking needy and disgusting, you called John a different name in bed? What kind of person even fucking does that, Thomas? Who-“  
“What name did he say I said?”  
“He wouldn’t tell me, but if you’re gonna try to defend yourself-“

He tuned him out after that. John hadn’t said that Thomas said Alex’s name. John kept his secret aside from spilling it to everyone.

And that just killed him a little bit more.

 

John crashed on Hercules’ couch for maybe a week before deciding that he’d overstayed his welcome and needed to go back. He hated wallowing, and he hated that he had to go back, but he needed to.

He knocked on the door to Thomas’ house-his house-and waited. The taller man, of course, answered the door, and looked at John in slight surprise. “John-“  
“I live here, so whatever speech you have-“

And then there were lips pressed to his. And he would have melted, had he not tasted the sharp liquor on his mouth.

He yelped and pushed Thomas away, which instantly reminded him of the last time he did that, making a face that was a cross between concern, fear, and confusion. “Thomas, what the fuck? Are you fucking joking?”  
“What? I-“  
“Have you been drinking?”  
“I- uh-“  
“This is really fucking ridiculous now.” He stormed in and dropped his bag near the laundry room before scuttling into the kitchen and grabbing the bottle of wine, which was recently open and half empty with no glasses in sight, and shoved the cork back in to hide it under the sink before Thomas wobbled in.

“Go sit down, Thomas.”  
“Jacky-“  
“Don’t call me that, shut up and go sit your ass down. I’m not happy with you right now.”

Thomas complied. And John took note of the state he was in. Drunk lies tell sober truths.

He followed him out to the living room and sat him down, sitting across from him to glare. “Thomas.”  
“Hm?”  
“What’re you doing drinking at four in the afternoon? Did you really think the ‘drink the pain away’ method actually worked? Because-“  
Then Thomas leaned forward, coughed, and vomited onto the hardwood floor. John just sighed. “You’re so lucky I’m trying to be a nurse.”

 

Thomas woke later in the evening to the scent of chicken soup and the faintest hint of coffee. He was definitely already a little hung over, despite it being only nine at night, but he was already in bed.

He pondered his actions for a moment. Kissing John again, vomiting onto the floor, stumbling on the stairs as John helped him... It was completely and utterly embarrassing. He wondered why he let the smaller man in in the first place, and the way his heart beat in his chest reminded him.

Guilt swept over him in a tidal wave, and he knew he had to fix it. He had to fix what he’d done. One cannot wallow forever, and he certainly didn’t plan on doing such a thing. So he tied his hair back and stood, making his way slowly down the stairs. Faint music played from the kitchen, and John was humming along, making soup and checking his phone like he’d been there the whole time, stirring whatever delicious-smelling food was coming from the pot on the stove. The scent made his mouth water - he’d forgotten to eat - and he made his way over to wrap his arms around his waist.

“Are you still drunk?” The voice was cold, so cold that it even made Thomas shudder.  
“No.”  
“Then get off me.”  
“You’d let me hug you if I was drunk, but if I’m not you don’t want me to touch you?”  
“Just get off of me, Thomas.”  
Thomas let go, and it was quiet again. John glanced away from the pot to his phone to turn the music up a little. “I’m making you soup because you look like shit, and you’re gonna eat it and be nice. I’m still trying to disinfect the floor.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Mmmhm.”

Five minutes later, a bowl of soup was placed in front of Thomas, the music was off, and John was back out of the room.

Thomas couldn’t remember when John even looked at him once, and his heart ached to look at those brown eyes again. Why did he feel so guilty?

 

It felt like their house was just occupied with ghosts. Neither male looked at each other or spoke. Conversation remained at soft hello’s at the other’s arrival into a room and that was it, no asking how their day was or anything.

John felt gone. Thomas was just plain confused.

John, on one hand, felt really, really hurt for getting used by Thomas, who he grew to like. Thomas, the man he once looked up to and let between his legs willingly was now seen as this amalgamated monster that made him flinch just slightly whenever he noticed his eyes on him. Because Thomas looked at him quite a lot.

Thomas was confused because his head and his heart were in shambles at this point. John, that gorgeous light that once smiled and perkily asked him about his day was now just a shadow in the room, hiding away and keeping to himself.

The house was never quieter.

 

“I’m moving out,” John practically whispered over Chinese takeout one night. Thomas choked a little on his lo mein and blinked at him silently. John looked at him with those hardened brown eyes that didn’t often hold light in them anymore, and it made Thomas shudder in fear.

“Why are you leaving?”  
“We’ve been avoiding each other for four months. I’m.. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” The smaller male flicked his gaze to his half-eaten food, pushing it away with his fork before setting said utensil down. “I have my stuff packed. I know when I’m not wanted-“  
“I never said I didn’t want you.”  
“You sort of did when you said the wrong name a long time ago.”

Both men tensed a little at the memory and went quiet for five minutes, both gathering thoughts. Then they both spoke simultaneously.  
“I don’t want to go.”  
“I don’t want you to go.”

They both looked up at each other for a second, John’s eyes misty and saddened, with just a splash of hope as he blinked at him. “I don’t want to go, but I still like you, and I know you don’t feel the same-“  
“I do. I do feel the same.” This made John suck in a breath.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean that I want you here. W-With me. Stay. Don’t leave. We can figure it out.”  
“What happened to-“  
“Don’t worry about him. I need you here.” Thomas leaned forwards on the table towards him, nodding and pressing his palms flat to the surface. “I need you here, with me. Let’s talk.”

John was quiet and contemplating for a short time, looking at the other male sitting across from him at the dining room table, who was now telling him that he wanted him to stay. Then he nodded and sat back.

“You called me Alexander. You have no idea how bad that hurt.”  
“I was dumb. I didn’t realize that it was you that I needed and not him.”  
“What made you change your mind? Are you just lying to me? How am I gonna know-“  
“John, I swear to you I’m not lying. I’m..”  
“What?” John leaned forward, tilting his head. “You’re what, Thomas? Is this all a joke? What is it?”  
“John will you please just give me a chance to even talk? You’re not even listening to me-“  
“Do I even have to? Are you just going to come up with another piss-poor excuse for what you did?”  
“John! Can you relax?” He studied the smaller male, who looked significantly more upset. He knew John, he knew how emotional and fiery he was.  
“No, I fucking can’t relax! Do you even know how much that bullshit hurts? I just-“  
“I love you!”  
Silence.

John looked at Thomas in disbelief for a moment as Thomas looked away and tried to explain himself. “I started feeling something for you after a while, but denied them because I was pretty sure I was in love with Alexander. But, as you already know, he hates my guts, and I guess I only liked him because he was my enemy and I saw him everyday. Just a sort of quick attraction that was gone once I had time to actually think about it. I guess I never even liked him. I just told myself I did.”

The smaller male listened to him quietly, chewing his lip a little. Oh. He guessed that made.. a little sense. He looked down at the table, tapping his fingers against the surface in thought before nodding a little. “I’m not going to just throw myself at you because you’re sorry and in love with me. I’m not a cliche.” Thomas nodded slightly before letting him continue. “But.. I guess... I guess I can forgive you. But I need time too. Because the shit you pulled hurt me.”  
“I get it. I’m sorry-“  
“Stop apologizing.” John reached out and grabbed his hand gently on the table, making Thomas look back at him. “We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

Thomas looked at him, then at their hands, before slowly closing his own hand around John’s and nodding. “Yeah, we’ll figure it out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are lifeblood


End file.
